


Where You Belong

by sunnylil



Series: A Place To Feel At Home [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnylil/pseuds/sunnylil
Summary: Last installment of the A Place To Feel At Home seriesThat’s when it started. That’s when the word appeared. In Yevgeny’s mouth. In their minds.But it hadn’t been easy. It never was.But now, that all seems to be forgotten.It’s been worth it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys.  
> It took me ages to write this and to finish up this series but here we go.  
> It's split in two chapters. The first in Ian's POV, the second in Yevgeny's POV.  
> It's set four years after What The Future Holds, so Yev's about 14 years old.
> 
> Title is from Kari Kimmel's Where You Belong  
> Enjoy, let me know what you think.
> 
> (I'm not a native speaker and this work is not beta'd.)

The air is electric.

Suddenly everything seems to be forgotten.

Yevgeny’s outburst when the social worker picked up Jason after three short weeks of staying at their house. The way he called their house an animal shelter. Five foster kids had been living with them in the four years since Hailey left for college, none of them staying longer than three months. Mickey didn’t even remember all of their names.

That’s when it started. That’s when the word appeared. In Yevgeny’s mouth. In their minds.

But it hadn’t been easy. It never was.

Years of stability, of regular check-ups, of knowing what to watch out for paid off. Not a full blown relapse. Just a slip up, caught early enough to readjust meds. New meds. Side-effects. Hunching over the toilet puking his guts out, Yevgeny standing in the door, pale, scared. Hating himself for scaring his son, hating the meds, hating his brain, hating everything.

The call from the principal’s office. Two boys and a furious Russian. Both boys were bleeding, the blonde one scowled but didn’t look up to meet his parents’ eyes. A two day suspension and an argument on the way back home. A reminder to never get yourself caught fighting, ‘cause that’s just plain stupid.

And then there were tears. Hot, angry tears. Yelling.

_You’d rather let him call my dads weak to my face and do nothing? That’s not fucking stupid? Gonna let him call Dad a fucking psycho next time without doing anything._

Feeling the world shatter around him. Not because some kid called him a psycho. He’s been called worse. There’s a hand on his arm and blue eyes in his field of vision. He’d never wanted to cause Yevgeny pain. He always thought he’d do better. In the end it didn’t matter.

But it does.

At first Yevgeny refuses to even look at the website. A few weeks later there’s a new entry in their calendar on the fridge. Yevgeny’s handwriting is as messy as Mickey’s but Ian’s still able to decipher it.  They start to go to Patsy’s every other Wednesday after picking Yev up from a support group for teenagers with mentally ill parents.

Things settle down and one evening when Yev is at Svetlana’s there appears a new word in the google search history on their laptop. A simple google search and an agreement followed by hours in a sticky office, in different houses, with different people.

But now, that all seems to be forgotten.

It’s been worth it.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Pops’ driving like our lives are in danger but that’s nothing new. The way from the courthouse usually takes much longer, at least that’s what my phone said when I told Mom when she should be expecting us. But she probably knows how to calculate when Pops’ is driving. Dad keeps looking through the rear view mirror at us, smiling. I can’t help but smile back.

I remember how I excited I was when Motya was born and Mom and I went to the hospital to bring him and Alyona home. We were all just smiling the whole time. It’s the same today, even though it’s different.

Technically there’s no new person entering our life today.

But I still got a new sibling today.

Lilly’s been living with us for a few weeks. Long enough to learn that she loves chocolate pudding and hates raisins. Long enough to learn that she listens to musical soundtracks when she’s upset. Long enough for her to figure out that the easiest way to get Pops to agree to something is to bribe him with a snickers bar.

But today it got official.

There are still people in my class that think that a family has to consist of a mother, a father and various, blood-related children. Their mothers bring cookies to PTA meetings and shit. When I was in second grade I asked Mom to bake something for the teachers’ evening and she laughed at me, saying that she got better shit to do than baking for a bunch of assholes who took themselves too seriously. (I asked Dad for the next one and he’d let me help him and eat some cookie batter.)

Most of the families around here don’t fit into the conservative picture of it. Most of my classmates aren’t raised by both of their birth parents, some live in foster care. Everyone at school knows who my parents are. It’s hard not to be known if you’re raised by a former Milkovich, a Gallagher and a fierce Russian and her wife, in other words: the most badass people in the Southside. My teachers know to ask for Dad if there’s a problem, because Pops doesn’t listen to a single word they say.

They know and they know better than to pick a fight about it, because I made it clear that I inherited my parents’ fighting genes and Dad’s technique by the time I got to middle school.

Still, some people need to be reminded not to insult my parents in front of me. Especially not when the image of Dad puking his guts out, because of some shitty side-effects, is still inside my head and I keep checking my phone for a _Taking Ian to the ER. Stay with your mom_ text every other hour. Some things are better explained with fists than with words.

And even though that fight had nothing to do with _needing some support_ as Dad put it, but with the fact that some assholes are just fucking disrespectful and no one, - _no one_ -, disrespects my family, that support group thing turned out to be quite nice. At least there are free cupcakes every single time. (And I’m actually not the only one who worries about emergency text messages.)

So yeah. That’s my family. Part of it, at least. The rest of it surprises Dad, Pops and Lilly as soon as we enter the house.

Everyone is there:

Fiona and Vee are holding a banner that says _Welcome to the family, Lilly_ , Lip is holding Ryan in his arms, Valeria standing next to him. Carl is standing next to Liam, Kev, Gemma, and Amy. Hailey and Debbie are carrying a giant cake with candles from the kitchen into the living room, where Mom, Alyona and Motya are sitting next to Mandy and Franny.

When the whole family huddles together a few minutes later to fit into one picture, my two sisters are standing right next to me, and my parents right behind me. It’s hard to squeeze all of us into one picture but we manage it. Hailey gives me a nipple twist right before the flash goes off and I flip her off in turn.

We take a bunch of photos, some just with my dads and Lilly, some with all my parents and Motya, some with the whole bunch.

It’s loud and annoying and Ryan gets cake on the couch and Carl almost sets the kitchen table on fire when he lights some sparklers.

I watch my dads holding a sparkler in one, each other’s hands in the other hand and smile. It looks like the world around them has disappeared for a moment and I can’t help but smile, too.

In this moment, every single person in this room is happy.

I hope it stays this way as long as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. I love this series very much. Thank you for supporting me, thank you for reading this.  
> It's been so much fun to write it.  
> xoxo


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